Wiped

I am feeling very tired today. I was up until almost midnight making favor tags for the wedding. They look nice though, I must say (thanks, Georgia!). I'm kind of feeling hazy and out of it, so I won't be having any award-wining posts today.

But I do have to say that I drove this morning (Pete slept) and I saved myself about 45 minutes of gripping the car door and closing my eyes, so today can't be all that bad!

Driving with Mario

Today was a repeat of yesterday's manic ride into work with Pete. He suggested I take a nap on the way in, which is why we're trying to switch off driving duties, but that was easier said than done. Every time I opened my eyes we were either doing 80 and three feet from someone's bumper, or swerving onto the shoulder, or slamming on the breaks at weird, random moments. And every time Pete would pass someone that was going rather slowly (which I admit was a huge problem today) he would dramatically turn his head and give the person a dirty, mean stare as we drove by. I tried to crawl under my seat, but I couldn't get my belt off. Then, when we got to his work, he asked me if I had a nice rest and why I looked so concerned. It's so ridiculous it's funny.

Well-meaning erratic driver

Pete offered to let me sleep today while he drove us to work. Let's just say I didn't sleep at all. I was able to close my eyes for a while, but every time I opened them I saw us either swerving onto the shoulder, almost missing our exits, or putt-putting behind a semi or garbage truck. He wanted me to play ABBA (and knowing Pete, it would be at eardrum-bleeding level) but I asked him not to, so we drove in silence. He didn't even want NPR, and said he can't sleep with the radio on, so how could I? That was a not-so-subtle hint to me for when I drive and I have the news radio station playing (at extremely low levels, mind you).

We managed to make it to McDonald's where the employees were moving like glaciers, and they forgot the cream in our coffee (something they proudly promote as a special feature) and my water bottle, which ended up being lukewarm. Anyhow, I made it to work in one piece, maybe not so well rested, but once again pleased by Pete's well-meaning intentions.

Neurotica

I hate being neurotic. Well, sometimes it's fun and I get wound up and worked up, which can be its own experience. But sometimes it's a pain and I am trapped in my own behavior. Like tonight. Pete and I went to get some ice cream, and I was practically doing a song and dance for him to ensure that he was enjoying himself (he was being a bit moody). He didn't seem to notice my unease, even though I said I was uneasy and worried that he wasn't happy, but that still didn't phase him. His mood improved after a while, but I almost felt exhausted from the effort. Sometimes I think I worry waaaaaaaay too much about what other people think and feel, and whether they're happy or not. When it gets to the point where I can't enjoy myself and I'm not in a good mood because of it, well, that's not healthy. It's something I should strive to control, but I'm not making very much progress. And if I worry about it, I'll start obsessing and being anxious, which is exactly what I'm trying to avoid. Sometimes it's exhausting being me.

Afternoon slumber

I hate having a wonderful burst of energy all morning long (despite a migraine) and then coming home, only to succumb to the sweet siren song of my cozy bed. I think I'm going to take a quick nap, which means I won't wake up for hours and hours, but I think I really need one, especially with this headache. I have lots of drawing to do, but I think I'll work better once I'm refreshed, although I'd like to get it done asap so I can get that out of the way (and get paid for it, too!).

Sweet dreams!

An almost-rant

I was fully prepared to start bitching about a laundry incident involving Pete this morning, but I changed my mind. See why here.

I should pay attention to what's important in life, although that can be easier said than done sometimes.

I love you, honey :)

To the creepy guy in shipping who likes to stare at all the ladies

Stop. It's creepy and gross, and I'm going to file a complaint one of these days. A look is one thing, but to openly stare and watch me walk around (and all the other female employees here) is disturbing at best. I even saw you staring at the lawn care guy and TURN AROUND as you walked past him to see what he was doing. That right there is weird, so you know you have a problem. I don't like feeling like a piece of meat when I'm trying to work. It's bad enough this job blows chunks and I have to grit my teeth just to get through each day (hell, each HOUR!). So how about you take your peek (or better yet, NOT), then turn away, and TRY not to make me want to punch you in the face. Just a thought.

Wedding jitters

I'm getting down to the wire here on the wedding stuff, and I find myself becoming a little ball of stress. Which is not good, because I'm starting to break out, have stomach aches (more so than usual, that is), and that sort of thing. I think the hardest thing is all these little details I have to remember all the time. I sorta wish I hired a wedding planner to help me. We have one through White Pines, but she's pretty much taking care of stuff on her end, and not all the piddly things that I gotta do. Well, not piddly, just numerous little tasks that, added together, make up the whole wedding experience. So I'm doing my best, but it's hard. I wonder why I haven't wasted away to nothing yet from my frazzled nerves? At least I'd fit into my dress then....

Smart Quiz

This morning I got blamed for "not believing" that Pete and I could win the Smart Quiz. This is a quiz that comes on at the same exact time every morning, but we have never tried to call in...until now. Pete knew the answer and wanted to try winning the prize, so I instantly grabbed my phone, dialed the Smart Quiz number (on speed dial, mind you), and handed him the phone. Of course Pete wasn't caller number 7, and I tried to explain to him that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of people trying to call in at the same time. No, it had to be because I didn't think we could do it, and I somehow cursed our attempt to win with my reluctant attitude.

This is from the same man who also told me it looks like I have a giant poop stain on the front of my shirt today. Pete was thoughtful enough to comment on it while we were at the gas station getting coffee, and the girl behind the counter thought he was hilarious (although she was pretty sympathetic to me, too). And it it was Pete's parting comment when I dropped him off at work just a half hour ago. What a sweet man.

Tummy trouble

Why is it when I try to be good and eat healthy, I get shafted in the end? I went to McDonald's today with Pete, and being a good girl, I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich, no mayo. But the minute I started eating it, my stomach began gurgling and snarling, trying to reject the food. This is the second time this has happened to me with this particular sandwich. I thought the first time was just a fluke, but now I know better. It's been over two and a half hours and my stomach is still bloated like I'm four months pregnant. Where's the frickin' chocolate bar or half-eaten bag of Dorito's? I'm going right for the bad stuff if I have to look like a puffer fish anyhow, no matter what I eat.

Procrastination makes things happen

I'd like to know when I'm going to actually get serious and get stuff done that I'm supposed to get done. I am the world's best procrastinator. Give me something important that needs to be done by a certain time, and I'll be sure to blow it off 'til the eleventh hour. But I do think I feed off that panicky energy, and it helps me in a creative way, but it certainly doesn't do much for my nerves, that's for sure. Here I sit, needing to get done LOTS of freelance work and house cleaning and grocery shopping, oh my, and what am I doing? Blogging, checking email, online shopping, organizing my photos, watching tv, etc. At least I can say I'm an excellent multi-tasker, eh?

Swollen foot

Yesterday morning I was getting some water in the lunchroom at work, and happened to look down at my feet. I almost did a double take when I saw how swollen my left foot was. The ankle was completely shrouded in bloated shapes, and even my calf was slightly enlarged. It started feeling more and more tender as the day went on, and the swelling seemed to increase as well. Since I don't remember hurting my foot, this happened to freak me out quite a bit. I always seem to get these weird afflictions, and I always worry I've got some rare, incurable disease or disorder. Then my mind starts running in a million directions, and I imagine things like being treated for a weird parasitic disease, or fainting during a meeting, etc.

My foot is still a bit tender and swollen today, so I'm going to guess that I stepped on it funny and this is the result. Very bizarre.

Pun-O-Rama

My dad is serious about his puns. No one can match his way with this groan-inducing wordplay. And God forbid that anyone else gets caught up in the madness, like Pete did last night at my parents' house.

We were all talking about wedding traditions from different cultures, and I mentioned the jumping of the broom ceremony in African American weddings. That suddenly sent off a frenzy of puns, each one worse than the previous one. Apparently Pete found this irresistable and joined right in. Pretty soon I was feeling nauseated from the constant verbal stream and had to sit down. But Pete and my dad thought it was hilarious and had a blast outdoing each other. I practically had to drag Pete away from the house to escape. You might say Pete was "swept away" by my inability to tolerate any more puns...har, har, har.

Decapitating ladders

Does anyone else have the same irrational fear of ladders on trucks and vans as I do? Every time I'm behind a vehicle with a ladder strapped to its roof, I imagine the ladder sliding off the roof, crashing through my windshield, and decapitating me. It's a strange paranoia I have, and I'm not sure how it developed, but it never fails to make my heart skip a beat when I see a ladder being carted around out on the roads.

The Reading Effect and The Late Effect

Ever try to read a book or magazine while you're sitting at a stoplight? I tend to have long commutes that are punctuated by many, many traffic signals. So, I like to bring magazines or books with me. When I get a red light I pull out my reading material and read for the minute or two (at least) that the light is red. But I noticed something funny. If you try to do this, you tend to hit all green lights. It's true! Yesterday I brought a book with me, and every time I tried to read it the light would either turn green or stay green as I moved toward the intersection. It's a guaranteed way to get home fast.

And the opposite seems to be true for when you're running late. I get every single red light possible, in addition to freight trains, broken down cars, accidents, stray dogs running in the road, anything you can imagine. It's a sure thing that I will be even later than I might normally be if I'm running late because I feel I'm being punished by the traffic gods.

Tired, crabby, bloated, crampy

I think I just said it all there. No award-winning posts today, sorry. If you want to see the lighter side of me (I've been very bitchy lately, I know), check out reverie.

I'll try to be more positive tomorrow and blog about some weird thing that happened to me or whatever. Hang in there...

Wasted Sunday

Yesterday was one of those days that just flew by, and I got very little accomplished. But in my defense, I woke up hung over AND had a migraine. So I didn't even feel like walking around without puking until after 1:00. By then my head felt like it was going to explode, so I tried showering and eating something (didn't work). I finally got my migraine meds and my headache began to magically fade away, but by then I felt exhausted and absentminded. I did sweep the kitchen and living room floors (gathering up a good pound of Adora's hair in the process) and I did a load of laundry, but that was about all I could muster. Today I'm just scraping by again, so I can already sense that I won't get much done tonight, but I really have to.

I wanna go back to bed.

When does it end?

I'm having fun with a marathon migraine, or so it seems. It started yesterday morning and I'm still enjoying it, over 36 hours later. I'm off to Walgreens to get my migraine pills, so I don't have too much to rant about besides feeling like crap.

On the lighter side, check out a wrap up of the weekend activities at my other blog, reverie.

Time to par-tay

No post today—gotta get skanked up for my bachelorette party tonight. Back tomorrow.

Companion cars

Don't you just love it when you encounter companion cars on the road? What I mean by companion cars is that car that happens to be going the same speed as you, driving in the same style as you, and generally your mirror image as far as driving goes. I love it when they're behind me and I'm the lead car, and we zip in and out of traffic together, seamlessly moving along the highway, leaving behind all the slow moes and other lame vehicles.

The saddest part is when one of you exits and the other must continue on, and the magical spell is broken. It's a very bittersweet moment in the world of driving, I think.

Overripe bananas

Man, I hate overripe bananas. They taste funny, they're mushy, and they're often full of brown icky spots and bruises. The only thing they're good for is banana bread. Pete and I have a symbiotic relationship with bananas though. He loves them when they're almost black and hates them when they're yellow with a tinge of green (my favorite banana stage). So I get all the lovely firm bananas and he gets all the overripe spotted ones. There are never any bananas wasted in our house, that's for sure.

Headache

I've got a lovely headache at the present moment. I'm generating lots of stress right off the bat today, due to me being late to work. What a great start to the day. I hope my headache doesn't mutate into a migraine....

Kanker sores

My favorite thing in the whole wide world—kanker sores! And I get them quite frequently, too. I think a lot of it is tied into my stressful nature (oh, to be rid of that side of me!). And a lot of it is tied into my Hooveritis. (What, you say? Hooveritis? Yes, it's a phrase coined by my friend, Heather, to describe all the health crap I've endured for the last year and a half. That's a story for another day.) 

Anyhow, I get them all the time, and when I do, it's always 2–3 of them at once, and always always always in the best spots. Like in front of my upper and lower front teeth, or right near my lip. They are an absolute blast to deal with, too. Not just because it sucks when I try eating food—ANY food, mind you—but also because they seem connected to my immune system. So when I'm suffering from a bad outbreak (which seems to happen every 3-4 weeks) I can feel my lymph nodes swell, and my left tonsil always starts throbbing steadily for days. And the darn things last for a good week or two. I just got rid of two nasty kanker sores a few days ago, and already I have another one!

I think I'm going to go find a nice big bag of super-salty chips now....

Slow-moes

Okay, I'm trying a new thing where I stay calm, stop stressing, and let things roll off my back. But as Pete and I were driving home tonight, we got stuck behind someone going 10 mph under the speed limit. Now I don't insist people speed or drive recklessly, but I honestly think it's rude and discourteous when people drive like that. It means you're making at least one other person drive slowly because YOU want to drive slowly. And it's always on a twisty road or in heavy traffic so you can't pass anyone.  Even better, sometimes there's a "slow coalition" that consists of 3-4 cars abreast on the expressway that you're stuck behind, all driving slowly at the same speed, usually a good 10–15 mph under the limit, so you can't pass anyone. And last time I checked, driving slowly in the left lane on an expressway is illegal—it's meant as a passing lane and is reserved for faster-moving traffic (yes, it's true!).

So if you're one of those slow people, please be kind and either move up to the proper speed or pull to the side, so that the person behind you can pass you. It's great that you want to drive under the speed limit, but such limits are set up for a reason—to keep traffic moving properly. And I might be trying to get home to my family, or I might be late for an appointment, or work, or whatever. And now because I'm stuck behind YOU I'm going to get trapped at the next light, which will set off a series of red lights for me. Meanwhile, you tap on your brakes and hesitate at that first yellow light (which quickly becomes a red light for me), then suddenly sprint through and go about your merry way while I'm trapped waaaaay behind you. Gee, thanks.

Rant-free Monday

Trip to Savanna—back tomorrow.

A plea to the man in the safety glasses

Please, please, oh please, do not leave the doors in our house open. Please? Please. I beg you. Is it too much to ask you to make sure the doors are closed behind you? A simple request, really. I don't mean to be a bother. I'm perfectly okay swatting away the flies and mosquitos that have invaded our home. And I'm more than happy to swelter in the stifling heat that has rushed in through open doors. But I cannot bear to watch another pet run away. I have endured too many close calls, only to find my furry friends safe from harm, somehow shielded in an armor of luck. Tonight, however, I am in despair over the loss of my dear friend Max. I miss his yearning cries when he's hungry, his smooth and slinky body rubbing against my legs, his graceful form jumping from couch to couch. I won't be able to sleep very well tonight, nor will I be able to go about my business tomorrow, without worrying about his welfare and hoping that we'll be reunited soon.

Please close the doors. Please?

Lazy Sunday

Why is it so deliciously easy to slack off and not get anything done on Sundays? I was a little cleaning tornado for the last few days and got TONS of work done in the house. But today the laziness bug has bitten me and I don't feel like doing much. Which is bad, since I still have lots of cleaning, errands, and freelance stuff to do. I'm sure having a little nip of Starbucks would motivate me if I can only get my lovely fiance to go get me some, but I'm thinking that's unlikely. 

Oh well. It's all good because in the meantime I've been creating lots of new sets on my Flickr page and blogging my little heart out. And Etsy's received quite a bit of my attention this weekend as well. I suppose it's a fair trade off since I'm normally super stressed and busy during the week. What's wrong with a little goofing around every now and then, anyhow? It's good for the soul, right?

Migraines, part two

Day two of migraine fun. I get rid of one, and then wake up at 4 a.m. with an even worse headache today. Took two aspirins and a migraine pill, and two hours later I'm still not feeling too great, although I don't feel as bad as when I woke up.

On the plus side, I did get whipped up into a house-cleaning frenzy yesterday after all that caffeine from the aspirins and chocolate I consumed (I always crave chocolate when I have migraines, for some reason). I got a lot of cleaning done, so I'm hoping to have the same results today. I'm going to go hunt down the candy dishes full of M&Ms and eat a few handfuls to get the show on the road.

Migraines

Boy I love migraines. I tend to get them in clusters that run several days in a row, so an entire week is usually ruined. And they tend to be all over the board in type, intensity, duration, etc. I usually rank them on a scale of 1-10, and I've very rarely had 10s, thank God. 

Today I woke up with a mild headache, so I took an aspirin. Didn't do anything, so I took another. Again, nothing. So I moved up to an Excedrin. I started feeling hyper and my stomach wasn't too happy, but the headache was only getting worse. 

Now I'm about to take one of my expensive migraine pills that run $5 a pop WITH insurance. The pills don't take effect right away either, so I get to suffer for another hour or so until the migraine slowly fades away. Sometimes I feel sickly and exhausted all day after taking the pill, even after my migraine is gone, so the day is usually a loss for me. 

Hopefully this one won't turn out that way. It's only a level 3 or so migraine, but it's getting stronger by the minute, so I'm off to take some drugs. Yay.

Good ol' myopia

Well, I've done it again. I own TWO pairs of glasses and can't seem to find either one. I wear contacts all day, but I need to give my eyes a rest at night, especially since I'm an illustrator/designer and proofreader, and my eyes are fried by the end of the day. So needless to say it's been fun trying to see what I'm typing here. And I can't see the wonderful things I've been looking up online for the last several hours. If I sit so that my nose is 10-12 inches from the screen, I'm good to go, but that gets old after a while and my neck hurts from the awkward angle. I think I'll call it a night and hunt for my glasses in the morning (with my contacts in, of course!).

The sad thing is my eye doctor now wants me to use readers at work. My eyes have been getting tired lately, and things are blurry and hard to focus on after 8 hours of work, even though my close-up vision is perfect. He says it's from aging. How depressing. Does that mean I have to get one of those eyeglass chains that little old ladies wear?

Lash out

Beware the evil eyelash curler. I have crimped my eyelid (yes, my eyelid) several times with my previous eyelash curler, but recently bought a new one, thinking I was leaving all that pain and irritation behind. Not so. This morning I was using my new eyelash curler and managed once again to pull out some of my sparse corner eyelashes. I have already plucked my own eyelashes a million times since I started using my new curler, so I'm surprised I still have any eyelashes at this point. Ah, the price we pay for beauty.

Urban cowboy

Tonight Pete asked me what I would do if he decided to start wearing a ten-gallon hat all the time. After a long, awkward silence, I asked him if this is something he has been thinking about doing for a while. Pete said yes, that he always wanted one like Hoss Cartwright, and that they make really nice felt versions. I was speechless and just stared at him. Pete then added that he has a "lot more cowboy in him" than I realize, and with that last comment our conversation was pretty much wrapped up.

Ewww

Pete and I had the great fortune to see not one but TWO truckers picking their noses this morning on our way to work. And Pete saw one of the truckers actually consume this little nasal treasure, too. Luckily I was driving and watching the road, so I missed that part.

Under penalty of law

Okay, I'm a freelance illustrator, so my taxes are taken out at tax time instead of throughout the year. So it can be a hefty fine I end up paying every year, and 2006 was no exception. I ended up owing $1,250 in taxes (yeah, ouch!) from my freelance work. I set up a payment plan with the IRS, which I faithfully paid every month (and then some), to the point where I'm currently in debt for maybe $50, $100 at most.

Well, on Monday I got a letter from the IRS telling me that I had OVERPAID $350 in taxes last year (this is equal to the amount I paid back online in 2007) and that they were graciously deducting this amount from the $1,250 I owed them. They confidently stated in the letter that I only owed $853 in taxes, and would I please pay them immediately? I tried to call the 800 number on the letter but was on hold for over twenty minutes. Pete was trying to clean his ears out at that very moment in our living room with an earwax removal kit, thus needing my undivided attention, so I was unable to complete the call. And I have a feeling they're going to withhold my economic stimulus check because of all this money I supposedly still owe, a check which was going to go into our savings account. Needless to say I'm very, very irritated with the IRS right about now.

Tomorrow I have to set aside some time at work to call the IRS and try to straighten this mess out. I'm sure my boss will be pleased as punch when she finds me on the phone for an hour, either on hold with the IRS or yelling at their representative to get them to help me. 

Where's the motivation to be a good citizen and pay your dues when you just get crapped on?

On the fence about safety

When I think about all the fights in my relationship with Pete, both past and present (and future!), I realize that I'm almost always surprised by the things he gets upset about. 

Take the "fence" in our backyard. Ours is a rental house, so of course we don't want to modify too much about the house using our own money. But there is this oddly configured, half-falling-down chicken wire fence on one side of our house that our dog Adora tends to escape from, and recently she tried to fake-attack a dog. That was the last straw for me, and it was time to put an end to her wandering ways. I've always worried she'll be hit by a car, run away (although she and our other dog Spanky always find families to hang out with), or scare/attack some other dog/person.

Anyhow, today my sister-in-law Jeanette suggested that she bring over some extra fencing to repair this makeshift fence, because Jeanette is also very worried about Adora's welfare. Well, you would have thought Jeanette and I were planning to build an addition onto our house from the way Pete reacted. Lots of drama ensued and the stomping of work boots was witnessed. Apparently repairing this fence for the safety of our beloved Adora was not a good enough reason for Pete to be "walked over" in such a manner. Our neighbor was totally fine with the fence idea (and I secretly think he was glad we were finally containing our dogs), so I couldn't figure out what the big deal was. 

After some more griping from Pete I quickly made my escape in a huff, angrily throwing down a fence spike on my way inside the house, and I left poor Jeanette to get bitched at some more. Only a short while later the fence was repaired, all was well, and Pete headed out to mow the lawn. Jeanette and I had a good laugh over the incident as we later drove to Home Depot ("Cart free and proud of it") where she purchased a lovely toilet. I, of course, bought an automatically self-closing pet gate at Target, which was truthfully advertised as both stylish and secure, and which wrapped up our evening quite nicely.

In the end, I'm still mystified as to why this was such an ordeal, and why it produced a very sour attitude from my future husband. I guess they say to always keep the mystery alive in your relationship, so it sure seems like we're headed down the right path. At least Adora won't be roaming the streets of Warrenville anymore....